Heimatmusich
[Banater Post Nr.17-18 * 15. Sep 2015]

Heit han ich mer die CD vun unsrer Blechmusich widdr mol anghorcht. Die Musichkapell hat in Deitschland zammgfunne un nennt sich „Trachtenblaskapelle“. So weit wie ich des beurteile kann, hat se sich bemiht, de Klang vun drhemm zu erreiche und hat ‘ne aach ganz gut erreicht. Do drzu kann mer nor „bravo“ saan, die Musikante han ihre Sach gut gmacht.

Vorm Kriech war ich noch zu kleen for bei villi Feierlichkeite mit Musich drbei sin, un wie die nohm Kriech widdr in Schwung kumm sin, do han ich schun mit eem odr zwaa Fieß in dr Stadt gstann. Un doch kumme mer manche Gfiehle, wenn ich die CD här, un manchmol krie ich sogar e Gänsehaut. Des muss also tiefer leije un vun meine schwowische Vorfahre härkumme.

Mei erschti Erinnerunge sin net ganz hell, ich muss noch e Kind gwenn sin. De Saal war voll mit Mensche, es war heiß, un e bissl staawich. Ums Saal rum han älteri Leit gsitzt, un in dr Mitte han jingeri Leit getanzt. Was des Ganzi for mich zu 'me Erlebniss gmacht hat, war die Blechmusich. Die hat solle frehlich sin, un sie war es aach, awwr do hat doch so etwas wie Traur odr Schwermut mitgeklung.

Ich kann sogar vun der CD noch immer des Gfiehl grien: Frehlichkeit mit Schwermut, do gspiert mer die ganze Johre voll mit schweri Arweit, die Hochzeite un die Begräbnisse, alles härt mer do mitklinge. Die gleichi Gfiehle hat mer aach in de Leit ihre Gsichter gsiehn kenne: großi Freed un großes Leed, de Kampf ums Lewe, scheeni un trauriche Erlebnisse, was schun so e Menschelewe ausmacht. Die Leit han’s wirklich vrdient, mr muss es ’ne vrgunne, dass die Musich se in e frehlich-traurichi Stimmung gbrung hat, die wu mr nor gspiere awwr ner beschreiwe kann.

Dann war do noch e anres Erlebniss. Mir Buwe han in dr Näh vun dr Sandkaul gspilt, un pletzlich schallt Musich, odr ’s Echo drvun, odr alli zwaa mitnanner, riwwer. Ufm „Warjascher“ Kerchhoff is jemand begrab gin, un die Blechmusich hat de Totemarsch gspilt. Mir han uns e phaar Minute lang net geriehrt un han wie vrzauwert zughorcht. Des ware Klänge aus‘m Jenseits, aus eener anri, un sicher bessri Welt. Ich weeß net, ob’s meine Kumrade aach so geht, awwr ich han des bis heit net vergesse kenne.

Home Brass Band
Translated by Nick Tullius

Today I listened once again to the new CD released by our brass band. The band constituted itself in Germany and calls itself „Trachtenblaskapelle“, meaning "traditional brass band". As far as I can assess it, the band has endeavoured to achieve the sound from back home, and it does it very well. One can say only "bravo" to the musicians, they did a good job.

Before the war I was still too small to attend many celebrations with brass music. After the war, when these celebrations gradually returned, I already stood with one or both feet in the city. And yet, listening to that CD, I am overcome by some strange feelings and sometimes I even get goose bumps. Something deeper must be happening, something going back all the way to my Swabian ancestors.

My earliest memories are not very clear, I must still have been a child. The hall was packed with people, it was hot and a little dusty. Sitting around the walls of the hall were older people, while younger people were dancing in the middle. What made the whole experience exciting for me, was the music of the brass band. It was somehow happy, and yet there was also something like sadness or melancholy in that sound.

I can get still that sensation even from the CD: happiness with melancholy, you can somehow feel all these years of hard work, the weddings and the funerals, everything can be heard in that sound. The same feelings were reflected in the faces of the people: great joy and great sadness, the struggle of life, beautiful and sad experiences, all that makes up a human life. The people really were entitled to enjoy this music, that happy and sad mood, that can only be felt, but not described.

Then I remember another, quite different experience. A few of us boys were playing in the vicinity of the pond called Sandkaul, when suddenly we heard music, or the echo of it, or both of them together. A burial was taking place at the "Warjascher" cemetery, accompanied by the brass band playing the funeral march. We stood still for a few minutes and listened like enchanted. These were sounds from the hereafter, from a different and certainly better world. I don't know whether it's the same with my playmates of that time, but to this day, I have never forgotten the experience.